Up Against the Wall Like Let's Go, Let's Go
by emmaswaning
Summary: Helena has a certain fondness to taking Myka against the nearest wall (or solid surface): she always has to do it. Six circumstances in which this occurs. Pre-established Bering and Wells smut, au. Following chapters to be posted soon. Reviews are more than welcome!
1. Impropriety

_**a/n:** Got this idea a while ago. Five small chapters of (pre–established) Bering and Wells smut. Set after Vendetta and throughout the rest of season two, but before Buried. Helena has a certain fondness to taking Myka against the nearest wall: she always has to do it. I also like the idea of dominant!H.G. so I hope you enjoy that._

* * *

Helena eagerly tugged on Myka's wrist and led her away from the group that included Pete and a police liaison for the case they were currently working. They were winding through hallways of a nearly–empty hotel that was closed due to renovations. The artifact in question was one that made construction workers nearly kill each other at their site, and there had been one death as a result of the unexplained rage. Myka casted glances back in Pete's direction, who was engrossed in conversation with the liaison, and didn't notice the two women slyly exiting.

"What's going on, Helena?"

Helena turned in the hall until she found a corridor that was under construction, partially covered in tarps. The floors and walls were being redone, but the wall that Helena shoved Myka up against was very much intact. She glanced back and forth, making sure neither Pete nor the liaison were catching on to them, and then she gave Myka a wicked smile.

"I find that I'm – how would you say it – _'in the mood'_?"

Myka's jaw hung open and she whispered frantically. "_Are you kidding me, Helena?_ We can't have–" she lowered her voice even more, eyes widening, "_sex_ here. We're on a case."

"Oh, darling, you always _were_ a bit of a prude, even for this time." Helena muttered.

Myka, clearly offended, exhaled deeply and crossed her arms. "I am _not_ a prude!"

Helena raised a brow and stepped forward, putting her hands on Myka's hips and drawing her closer. "Prove it." She challenged.

Not to be outdone, Myka swooped down and captured Helena's lips without even hesitating or giving Helena a warning. Helena smiled into the kiss, feeling Myka's tongue run over her bottom lip, then enter her mouth and duel with her own. With more force than before, Helena pushed Myka back against the wall that she had strayed from, bringing that same wicked smile back as she pulled away from the kiss. Helena tugged impatiently at Myka's leather jacket, slipping it off of her shoulders and listening to it fall to the ground. Her fingers then made the descent under Myka's shirt, over a taut stomach, the tips of her fingers brushing under Myka's breasts. Myka found herself bucking forward at the touch. Helena's very able fingers slipped from where they were under Myka's shirt, down until they went beneath the waistband of both Myka's sinfully tight jeans and her underwear. She found Myka wet and wanting, smirking victoriously. Myka's hand flew to Helena's forearm, her hips surging forward.

"This is _very_ unprofessional." Myka said it so quietly that she wasn't sure if Helena even heard her, but a raised brow said that Helena did.

Helena's finger slipped into Myka and she did her best not to moan, to show that she really _did_ want it as much as Helena suggested, but was failing. "It certainly doesn't _feel_ like you're complaining." Helena said smugly.

Myka temporarily cast a glare at Helena until she felt another finger enter her then curl inside her; her head fell back and hit the wall with a dull thud, her eyes slipping closed. Her left hand clutched Helena's forearm, while her other steadied herself on her shoulder. She found her hips coming forward of their own accord, gasping when Helena leaned forward and nipped and licked at her protruding collarbone. For several minutes, Myka forgot all about how they were supposed to be doing their job, how Pete and the police liaison were probably wondering where they were, how stern the talk would be if Artie ever found out that her and Helena were involved in the first place. She ignored the ramblings of her responsible conscience, and instead focused on how she felt Helena's shallow breath ghosting across her skin and her long fingers slipping in an out of her.

Helena pushed her fingers in to their hilt and stifled an animalistic grunt. Myka moaned quietly. "Can you feel that?"

Myka bit her lip and nodded, her head falling forward to rest on Helena's shoulder. "Yes."

"And it feels good, doesn't it?"

Myka nodded quicker this time. "Yes–_god_, yes, it feels good." She huffed out a breath. "Don't you dare stop."

"Wasn't planning on it, darling." Helena replied. "Just making a point."

Helena sped up her actions, feeling Myka's grip on her arm tightening to the point that she felt there would probably be nail marks on her skin. Myka's knees buckled and Helena slipped an arm around her lower back, holding her up. Helena's name fell from Myka's lips over and over again in a quiet chant until Helena cut her off with a satisfying kiss. Not seconds after Helena took her fingers out of Myka, the Farnsworth in Myka's jacket pocket buzzed and she jumped, startled. She smoothed out her appearance and answered it.

"Mykes, where are you guys? We must've lost you along the way."

"Ah–we–," Myka licked her lips, trying to think of an excuse. "We were just following up on something. Helena thought that she found something important."

"What was it?"

"Nothing." Myka responded quickly. "We'll meet up with you on the first floor."

Pete nodded and Myka shut her Farnsworth and tucked it away. They walked down the hall to find the elevator, and Helena raised a brow when it dinged and opened.

_"No."_ Myka said sternly.

Helena didn't say a word.


	2. Surveillance

Myka was beginning to think that her and Helena working together as partners wasn't such a good idea. Before they had become an official/unofficial couple, they simply worked their cases together to the best of their abilities, keeping the "Bering and Wells" banter about with every case. Myka had always wished to keep things with co–workers strictly professional. It had never come up in any discussions between her and her fellow Warehouse agents; there was silent understanding about what Myka went through with Sam, and she had never wished for history to repeat itself.

(_Though, when her fingers were wound into Helena's dark locks, urging her closer than she already was, whimpering and moaning, she suddenly remembered why sexual relationships between co–workers could be so mutually beneficial_.)

Myka and Helena had been assigned to a small surveillance detail as part of an ongoing investigation that they were working with Steve and Claudia. The surveillance detail was to watch a bartender at a secluded nightclub in the Lower East Side, New York City. Steve and Claudia were investigating some suspicious disturbances in Greenwich Village, leaving the two women to their own devices – something that Helena had silently been thankful for. Both Helena and Myka were doing their jobs perfectly fine up until a few hours into the detail when, while sitting in the candle–lit section of the nightclub – the more secluded area – Myka felt Helena's hands first on her knee, rubbing aimlessly. Both women were dressed for the bar scene, with fitted above–the–knee dresses, and Myka found it hard to ignore Helena's wandering hands, especially with so much exposed skin. When the tips of Helena's fingers skirted beyond the edge of Myka's dress, Myka uncrossed her legs and slapped her hand firmly over Helena's, immediately halting the action. Myka, trying to be ever the professional agent, leaned close to Helena to whisper, glancing around before she did.

"Helena, we're in _public_, on a _job_."

Helena fought a smile. "It's not as if _that_ hasn't stopped us, darling."

Myka's jaw stiffened. "Ignoring that _single_ incident, we have to be professional."

Helena smirked and narrowed her eyes, and continued moving her hand forward under the fabric of Myka's dress. "Do we really? I dare say that nothing will happen in the small amount of time we'll be gone."

Without even turning back, Helena stood up, grasped Myka's hand, and led her through the small crowd that gathered in the bar. Luckily, the lights were dim enough that they could still see each other, but no one would really pay attention to wherever they were going to. The music was loud so that intimate conversations were necessary if you wished to actually talk with anyone. Everyone minded their own business unless they were looking for a hook up. The men that Helena had caught giving glances in Myka's direction had soon regretted it: the look that Helena returned was one far less inviting, and she saw the men that were gathering their courage to advance on Myka recede and head back to the back to the bar. Helena walked with confidence as if she knew the place, as if she was familiar with the bar, but really, she wasn't; she was simply looking for the least–populated area of the club, which happened to be the hallway leading to the bathroom, and the actual bathrooms themselves.

"Not here." Myka said quietly, licking her lips.

She seemed suddenly eager, and it was then that Helena realized that she wanted this as badly as she did. Her eyes darted to the bathroom. Myka, not prone to scandalous club hookups, would at least prefer to have a little bit of privacy. She hurriedly pulled Helena away from where they sat and lead her to the bathroom, where they were undoubtedly passing several couples who had done exactly what they were about to do. Helena opened the bathroom door, and luckily it was a single person bathroom, granting them even more privacy. It was also empty. Myka walked in first and Helena followed, closing and locking the door behind her. Helena tugged Myka by her forearm and shoved her up against the door, hands wandering, mouth deftly attending to the soft skin of Myka's neck. Her hands rested around the curve of Myka's ass, pulling the taller woman against her.

As much as Helena enjoyed seeing Myka in skin–tight dresses that accentuated her curves and features, it had quickly became a bother. She hiked Myka's dress up as best as she could, setting it around her hips, and grasped Myka by her hips, setting her on the counter. Myka had momentarily forgotten how deceptively strong Helena was, letting out a surprised gasp when she was picked up. Helena stepped into the space between Myka's legs, pushing her legs further apart, her hands snaking beneath Myka's dress and hooking around her underwear. She dragged them down her legs and tossed them to the ground. Myka caught Helena's gaze and audibly gulped. The ache between her legs that she had ignored all evening had returned full–force.

When Helena's head dove between Myka's legs, she stiffened on the countertop, stifling a loud, uncharacteristic groan, and settled for just winding her fingers into Helena's hair.

Helena's tongue laved Myka's clit over and over again, and Myka couldn't stifle the moans that escaped her with every swipe of the obscenely talented tongue, nor could she help the way that her hips surged forward. Helena's nails dug into the tops of Myka's thighs and thrusted her tongue as deeply as she could, as quickly as she could, until Myka let out a surprisingly loud scream.

Helena stood and raised her brows while Myka hopped down from the counter on unsteady legs and straightened herself out.

"That was–_wow_."

"_Now_ tell me you don't like having sex on the job." Helena challenged.


	3. Domesticity

_**a/n:** I consider this chapter more of a filler than anything else. No real smut. More implied than anything._

* * *

Myka was in the kitchen, baking cookies. Everyone else was at the Warehouse either doing inventory or working on something to pass the time – there had been no pings in the last few days so she found herself searching for something to do. She had done her share of inventory, and even helped out with Pete's bit when he was busy doing something else, so she figured that her work there was done, and Myka had been given the go–ahead from Artie to go back to the B&B. Leena was at the Warehouse assisting Artie in searching for some files, so Myka was alone in the B&B. She had found chocolate chip cookie mix in the cupboard, so she decided to slip on an apron and get to work. In spite of the fact that she rarely ate sugar, she had a few vices, and she was in the mood for cookies Myka put her hair up in a quick ponytail, ignoring the strands that threatened to come loose when she began mixing the dough.

Helena leaned against the doorway in the kitchen, arms crossed. Myka was happily humming something, her ponytail swinging in time with her hums, Helena held back a chuckle. At the sight of Myka wrist–deep in cookie dough, Helena couldn't help but smile. "Domesticity is quite catching on you, darling."

Myka jumped a little, startled, but she half–turned, her hands still immersed in the bowl, and smiled appreciatively at Helena. "Thank you...I think."

Helena stepped into the kitchen so she was a few feet from Myka. "What are you preparing?"

"Chocolate chip cookies."

Helena smiled. "Sounds wonderful."

Myka nodded wordlessly. She turned around in the middle of rolling a ball of mix and pointed to the cupboard under the sink. "Can you get me the can of Pam under the sink?"

Helena went to the cupboard and clutched the can of Pam, scrunching her nose while she inspected it and handed it to Myka. Myka went to take the can but stopped herself, realizing her hands were covered in cookie mix. She chuckled to herself and pointed to the pan. "Can you spray it on the pan?"

"I believe I can manage." Helena said quietly, smirking.

After the pan was oiled, Myka began rolling the mix and setting the (soon to be) cookies on the pan. The first batch went in the oven with Helena's help and Myka went to wash her hands at the sink. Helena stood at one end of the kitchen, looking at Myka from head to toe. _What is it about her looking like a homemaker that I find so attractive?_ Helena chastised herself. Myka dried her hands and nearly shrieked when Helena was directly in front of her.

"You're starting to act like Mrs. Frederic." Myka joked.

"Sorry, darling. It's just that you have a bit of–" Helena gestured to her own face and Myka's mouth widened. "–_mix_, or whatever you prefer to call it on your face."

"Oh," She reached to wipe off whatever was on her face, but Helena's hand grasped her wrist and halted her movement. Helena's hand came to rest on her cheek and tenderly wiped away the mixture from her face.

The next thing Myka knew, Helena's lips were insistently pressing against hers, and she was being pressed against the counter, the tiled surface hitting the small of her back. Myka's hands came to rest on Helena's hips, while Helena's hands slipped under Myka's t–shirt, ghosting over her abdomen, and coming to palm her bra–clad breasts. Then, Helena's hands were on her hips again, and she was being spun around. Her hands fell to the counter, gripping the edge of it tightly as Helena's lips moved around the back of her neck.

"Being domestic is this appealing to you?" Myka asked incredulously.

"It doesn't work for everyone, but for you? It _certainly_ is."

Myka's knuckles were beginning to turn white from her gripping the counter. "Helena, we can't keep doing this."

"Why not?" Helena asked with faux innocence, "Aren't you enjoying yourself?"

Myka's eyes slipped closed and she sighed. "_Very_ much, but that isn't the point. We should just–" Helena's hands circled her waist and her lips rested on her shoulder, playfully nipping the skin there. Myka huffed out an unsteady breath. "–stick to having sex in _private_."

"I must admit, there is something that gets your adrenaline going when you have sex in public, don't you think?" Helena leaned close, so close that Myka could feel her breath against the shell of her ear. "It's quite a rush, isn't it?"

Helena pressed herself flush against Myka, moving her hips ever so slightly so that they collided against the curve of Myka's ass. Myka's head fell between her shoulders and she braced her hands on the counter. Helena's teeth, lips, and tongue proceeded to assault the skin of Myka's neck and shoulders while her hands slipped beneath Myka's waistband. They heard it before they even realized what they had heard: the front door had opened, and Pete and Claudia were nearly in the kitchen.

Helena quickly disengaged from her position and tucked her hands in her pockets, while Myka turned and smiled when they stepped in the kitchen. "H.G., Mykes, we got–" he paused, noticing Myka's flushed skin and Helena's downward glance. "–ice cream...what's wrong, guys?"

Helena cleared her throat and took an ice cream cone from the tray. "Nothing, Pete, I was just helping Myka with a little issue."

"Oh-kay," he drew out. "Not touchin' that one."

Pete offered Myka one and she politely declined, since there were cookies to be prepared. He yelled out something along the lines of 'Ice cream sandwiches!' with a mouth full of a soft serve cone. Pete and Claudia jumped onto the couch and clicked on a movie while Helena and Myka remained in the kitchen. Helena stood silently, knowing that a lecture from Myka was coming. When the first batch was in the oven, Myka crossed her arms and walked over to Helena, checking in the doorway to make sure that both Pete and Claudia were still glued to the television.

"What the hell were you thinking? We almost got caught having sex in the kitchen by our co-workers!"

"Technically, we weren't having sex," Helena shrugged, "...yet."

"Exactly! You have to learn to control your hormones, Helena, or we could be in serious trouble."

"If I _must_." Helena sighed.


	4. Under Covers

_**a/n:** this took absolutely forever and I'm so sorry. The computer busted and I had to wait to get a new monitor and it was just a big hassle, but I'm back now~_

_so there will be two, possibly three more chapters after this one, depending on how it works out. anyways, to those who followed/favourited/subscribed, thank you so so so much, you keep me inspired (and confident). hope you enjoy, and there's more to come!_

* * *

To Helena's credit, one of the (many) times they had sex on the job, they actually had to. It's part of the cover, she assures Myka. They're undercover as high-society socialites, and their hotel room is directly beside their suspect's. The artifact they're searching for has the ability to raise a small army, and if it gets strong enough, it can possibly control an entire army (so Artie says, but Helena isn't so sure). The suspect is a man who is very fond of poker and hosting expensive dinner parties; Myka still didn't know how Claudia had managed to get them in to a private party, but she did. Earbuds and all, Myka and Helena had kept surveillance on the suspect and everyone in his inner circle, only reporting to Artie and Claudia on the other end of the earpieces when they were alone. After the party they followed their suspect to an expensive hotel in Manhattan, and unexpectedly received the hotel room right next door to him. They had even taken the elevator with him - only because he was so nice as to hold it open for them. As the light flickered over the numbers passing each floor, he spoke.

"Romantic getaway?"

Myka immediately turned to Helena, who grabbed her hand and held it tightly, resting her head in the crook of Myka's neck. She nodded and cast the man a smile that made him chuckle.

"Yes," Myka drawled, nodding, and thinking of how to reply, "We're just...vacationing here."

"Oh, from where?" He asked, with the standard politeness.

"England," Helena answered, "She's coming to meet my family over the holidays."

"That's lovely." The elevator dinged to signal they arrived at their destination, and the man gestured for the two women to get off ahead of him. Myka walked on unsteady feet to the door with Helena still in incredibly close proximity. He went to his door as well, and before he went inside, he said, "You ladies have a nice time."

Helena chanced a wink at him which Myka caught, "We certainly will."

Myka stifled an eye roll and walked into the room. In her purse, her Farnsworth buzzed. Helena walked to the mini bar while Myka answered.

"Claude, you got all that?"

On the small grey screen, Claudia nodded, "I sure did. Could practically _hear_ the wink."

"What do you think he has in store?"

"I'm not quite sure, but he seems quite interested in..." she gestured to Helena, then to herself, "_This_ whole situation here."

"Think the room's bugged?" Claudia whispered.

Helena was walking around with a small bottle of vodka, looking in every place she could for bugs of any sort, but turned to Myka and shook her head.

"No. Not yet, if he's planning to, at least. There was no way he would know that we'd be here - he got to the hotel today, just like us," Myka paused, "Helena, what should we do?"

"Establish our cover." She answered quickly. "He believes us to be a couple, so let's make him really believe it. We want him to trust us, don't we?"

"H.G.'s right." Claudia interjected, "You need to get in his inner circle as quickly as possible. I'm digging up all I can about him, I'll get back to you guys later."

"Thanks, Claude."

Myka closed the Farnsworth and tossed it on the bedside table, putting a hand to her hip. Helena smiled at her as she heard the man leave his room. "I have an idea."

Helena circled around the room and clutched Myka's wrist and led her out of the room into the hall. The man was just exiting his room at the same time they did, and he turned to the elevators while they went the opposite way down the hall. Helena possessively wrapped a hand around Myka's hip, bringing her closer, whispering nonsense in her ear and making it seem like they were really a to-be monogamous couple. Helena could tell the man was smiling as the elevator doors shut.

"_That_ was your big plan?"

Helena seemed to take offense, "Well, he needs to see us being a couple, what better way to leave when he does and be in constant close proximity?"

Myka had to give her that, "Alright. Just uh-warn me next time."

"Of course, darling."

* * *

The next time Helena pulled her 'pretend-we're-a-couple-even-though-we're-secretly-dating' stunt, she didn't warn Myka. The hotel they were at had a lounge and a small casino with a set of blackjack and poker tables where Myka spent most of the day. Helena waited in the room, bored with Pay-Per-View channels. Myka buzzed her Farnsworth and Helena eagerly answered.

"Helena, I'm just on my way back up to the room. Our suspect do anything yet?"

Helena stood from the bed and checked the peephole in the door. She shook her head, "No, he hasn't arrived back from when he left, and that was hours ago."

"Do you think he ran?"

Helena pursed her lips, shaking her head, "No, his bags are still in his room."

"How do you know that?"

Helena bit her lip, "I may have snuck into his room and planted a few bugs. Bug him or be bugged, correct? He'll come back, the question is _when_."

"Okay. I'll see you in a few."

Much to Helena's delight, as Myka came down the hall from one end, the suspect came from the opposite elevator. "How serendipitous." She said wickedly. She sauntered over to Myka and clutched her shoulders, pressing her against the wall and claiming her mouth in a forceful kiss. Myka gasped and Helena palmed her breasts through her dress, licking down her jawline. The man down the hall attempted to watch subtly, but failed miserably. Myka turned her head at Helena's insistent mouth, moaning unabashedly at a particularly painful bite to her neck. The man went inside his room and Helena halted, pushing herself away.

"What the hell happened to giving me a warning?" Myka asked.

"You must admit, it's much better without one," A single brow arched and Helena disappeared in their room.

Luckily, the room Helena and Myka had booked had two beds. Helena laid in one, arm tucked behind one head, a book in hand, while opposite her, Myka was investigating the case, the files sprawled out on her bed. A package of Twizzlers sat out in front of her and she chewed one viciously, annoyed that they had a lack of findings on this case. Helena chanced a glance at Myka: her brows furrowed, a lip caught between her teeth, long dark hair tied up in a messy bun. Myka felt Helena's gaze burning her through her and slowly turned her head, catching her glance.

"What is it, Helena?"

Helena shrugged, "Oh, it's nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing."

"I just had a thought, that's all," Helena huffed.

"Which was...?" Myka prompted.

Helena shut the book she was reading and tossed it aside, swinging her legs so they hung over the bed. "Well," she began in a quiet voice, "if our suspect believes that we're some sort of affluent couple, who are also very much in love-"

"_Lust_," Myka corrected, "That stunt in the hallway? Seems more like lust to me."

Helena smirked, but continued. "As I was saying, if we're to get in his inner circle, we may need to make our cover more believable..." She trailed off, thinking Myka would take the hint.

"What _is_ it with you and having sex on the job? We're professionals, Helena; partners. Do you realize how much trouble we cou-" Mid-rant, Myka caught the amused gleam in Helena's eyes and her vibrant smile. "What?"

"For once, it appears we have a miscommunication," Helena said, "I was going to suggest that we make our cover more believable. Wedding invitations, expensive-looking engagement rings."

"Oh," Myka said dumbly.

"You want to have sex, don't you?" Helena asked with a stifled chuckle.

"No! Of course not!" Myka replied, too quickly to sound believable, "No, of course not, that's-_no_. No, I _definitely_ do _not_ want to have sex."

"The more you deny it..." Helena trailed off.

Helena narrowed her eyes. Myka had already painted herself into a corner in this situation, and though Helena wondered how far she could take it, she decided to cut Myka some slack. About half an hour later, the lights were out, and they were both asleep. More correctly, they were _pretending_ to sleep.

Backs to each other on the parallel beds, Myka's one arm was under her pillow, while Helena's rested on her own hip. Myka found herself unable to push the thoughts of Helena's touch, her warm gaze, and her deft fingers out of her head. She all but jumped out of her bed padded to where Helena 'slept'. Helena sat up and kicked away the blankets. Helena sat up wordlessly, and Myka slid onto her lap with ease, her hands coming around Helena's neck while Helena's went to Myka's hips, idly tracing patterns with her fingertips where Myka's shirt had ridden up and exposed a bit of skin.

"This has to be the last time." Myka said sternly.

Helena nodded. "Of course. Just as you said the last...three times, if I remember correctly?"

Myka playfully slapped Helena's shoulder, then she felt Helena's fingers on her thighs, nails scratching up and down her legs, and she was done.

* * *

Claudia, Artie, and Pete were still parked outside of the hotel in a large van, disguised as a plumbing company. They figured it would be easier to set up there than somewhere across town, because if trouble struck, there was no way they could navigate Manhattan traffic and get to the hotel in time to deal with whatever artifact needed to be dealt with. Artie was asleep in his chair, hands folded across his chest, snoring obnoxiously.

When the scanners picked up heavy panting and scattered breathing, Claudia slipped on the large headphones, momentarily ignored by Pete, who was eating his fifth doughnut. "What is that?" Claudia wondered aloud.

"What?" Pete asked, mouth of full doughnut. Claudia glanced over and looked at him with distaste as pieces of doughnut crumbled out of his mouth.

"What is _what_, Claudia?" Pete slipped on a pair of headphones, "I don't hear anything."

"Let me just enhance this, put this down, and..." Claudia turned up the volume, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"It's definitely two chicks," Pete remarked.

Then, the fateful, breathy moan was uttered: _"Helena."_

Pete's eyes widened in a mixture of shock, horror, and pride (for Myka). "Two chicks that we _know_!"

Simultaneously, the two pairs of headphones were thrown off in a panic and Pete and Claudia walked off to get a coffee and erase what they just had overheard.

"Maybe it wasn't them," Claudia began.

Pete's nose scrunched instinctively and he waved off Claudia's remark, "Nah, Claudia, I know that was definitely Mykes and H.G. - only Myka calls her 'Helena'."

* * *

Early the following morning, Myka called Claudia to send up some fake engagement rings for them to show off to the man next door. It was just past 4am, early enough that the man next door wasn't awake (and he wasn't). When room service arrived at Myka and Helena's room, the man next door (they learned his name was Jack) passed by them, luggage in tow. He noted the rings on their fingers.

"Congratulations," He smiled. Midway down the hall, as the waiter was still distributing their plates and food, he came back, notepad and pen in hand. "Listen, I don't really know you women all that well, but I believe we could great friends. I'm hosting a dinner party tomorrow evening, and I'd be really happy if you two could make it."

Jack handed them a piece of paper with a scribbled address and phone number on it. Myka took it and smiled, "Thank you. We wouldn't miss it for the world."

He smiled, beginning to run back to his luggage in the hall, calling back to them as he walked, "Again, congratulations on your engagement! With sex like _that_, I would hope you two would get married."

Myka's eyes widened, and so did the waiter's, who both women still ignored. Helena took the coffee pot and walked off into the room.

"He heard?"

Myka ignored the waiter and turned to Helena, who simply shrugged, "Darling, you wouldn't believe how loud you can be."

Both Myka and the waiter's jaws dropped.


	5. Quiet

_**a/n:** final chapter. Inspired by a scene from the film Bloomington. I own neither that, or Warehouse 13. hope you enjoy~_

* * *

It had been two months since Helena and Myka had sex while on the job. However, off the clock, they were still pursuing their official/unofficial relationship. Myka walked through the doors of the library, nodding to the librarian as she passed her, brushing by small groups of people as she walked. Currently, the "Bering and Wells" duo were in Boston, in the library of the Massachusetts College of Art and Design. A new section of a gallery had been unveiled, and several students who stayed in the workshop in the gallery building after–hours had gone missing. Myka was searching for her partner, unwilling to continue her investigation solo.

(More correctly, Myka worked better independently, but she preferred to investigate with Helena in her company.)

* * *

Myka walked down an isle, filled with books on principles of design, art history, and architecture. She trailed her hands along the shelves, running the tips of her fingers along the spines of each book. Helena sat at a table in the corner at the back of the library, one leg crossed over the over, nose–deep into a thick book, open books surrounding her on the table. A smile crossed her features as she flipped a page, obviously deeply interested in whatever she was reading.

Myka sat at the chair across from Helena, unannounced, and leaned back.

Not looking up from the book, Helena sighed contentedly. "I apologize for disappearing on you."

Myka shrugged. "You thinking of going back to school?"

Helena chuckled and shook her head. She closed the book and tapped her chin thoughtfully. "No, however, I have been thinking that wherever those students seem to disappearing to or whoever is taking them could be found in one of these books.

Myka's eyes widened, "In '_one_' of these books, Helena? There's got to be at least over a thousand books in here! Are you planning to read them all?"

"Of course not, darling," Helena furrowed a brow, "Besides, I've narrowed it down; all of the paintings in the gallery were renaissance–style, more specifically, Italian. The people who have gone missing have done paintings and sketches inspired by art in the Italian Renaissance. From there, I came here. If I can get in to the mind of a university art major, perhaps we could narrow the search."

"Do you think we could narrow it down even further?"

Helena narrowed her eyes, "How?"

"Professors."

Helena clapped her hands and said loudly, "Brilliant! I can't believe I hadn't thought of that."

Myka pressed her index finger against her own lips, _"Shh!" _The librarian was also shushing her from her desk far across the room, walking in the opposite direction with a stack of books in hand, ready to stack them on the shelves._  
_

Helena cast her an odd and confused glance. "What?" She said, nearly louder.

"You have to be quiet in libraries!" Myka said in a hurried whisper.

"Why on _earth_ is that?"

"People prefer that you don't distract them when they're trying to study." Myka said simply.

"As much as I adore literature, that sounds like nonsense," Helena replied, "if you truly enjoy what you're studying, it shouldn't take much to concentrate."

Myka crossed one leg over the over and leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. "You _can't_ be quiet, can you?"

Helena pursed her lips. "Of _course_ I can. Frankly, darling, I'm offended that you don't believe I can be quiet!"

"I don't believe you," Myka replied. Myka leaned against the opposite end of the table and tapping her fingers along the edge of it. Helena raised her brows.

"I believe I can manage."

"Let's see then," Myka murmured.

Myka stalked forward and Helena stood. She made it seem as if she were positioning Helena for a worthwhile experiment of some sort (at least, that's what Helena thought from the determined expression on Myka's face). Without breaking stride or saying a word, Myka reached for the button of Helena's jeans, and Helena hurriedly pushed away her hands, quickly looking around to see if anyone was paying attention.

Helena gasped, "What are you doing?!"

"Proving a point," Myka said nonchalantly, shrugging.

"But you said–"

"What, that we shouldn't have sex on the job?" Myka shrugged, "Things can change. Besides, you always sprung the surprise on me, so tell me, how's it feel to have the tables turned?"

Myka cast Helena a particularly wicked looking smile before indulging herself and abruptly entering Helena with two fingers. The other woman cried out but cut herself off, afraid of who may hear her. The librarian was still stocking books, but they didn't have a lot of time – not to mention the group of college kids who were only about seven isles away. Helena released a strangled sob and clutched on to Myka's arms as if she were her lifeline, nails digging in to Myka's arms.

* * *

"If I were you, I'd be quiet. Think you can do _that_?"

Helena glared, but only for a moment. Myka quickened her pace, and Helena lost her grip on Myka's arms, slightly falling forward, closer against Myka. Both women were acutely aware of the fact that they were essentially surrounded by onlookers, people who could catch them at any minute. Myka decided to be vigilant (and also multi-task) in her actions, rapidly pulling her fingers in, then out, at a frantic pace that kept Helena breathless. Relief came over Helena in waves; she pinched her eyes shut and bit Myka's shoulder to muffle the onslaught of screams that she knew would come.

Helena did scream, but only a little. It was enough for Myka to press the finger of her free hand against Helena's lips and stifle a chuckle of her own. Myka stepped away from her recovering lover and unceremoniously wiped her hand on her pants, putting her hands to her hips.

"Told you so."

"I was quiet!" Helena protested, clearing her throat.

Myka glanced around, "C'mon, we gotta go find the professors."

Helena straightened her clothes out and jumped off of the table, ignoring Myka's coy smile, "Righty-ho."


End file.
